That Moving Picture Poem by Sase vardhni

What a sight should I portray?
When the moving picture couldn't stay
Gingerly so gingerly the image came up to the bay,
Which stopped the birds from seizing their prey.

The waves weren't still,
The sound of the sea wasn't shrill,
No phrases could explain that moving still
A sight to witness without paying a bill.

Shut your visions to imagine,
To glimpse what I saw in mine
You will be doubtlessly fine
To shine without being to a shrine.

As the night passed by
Grey clouds abore the scent
of rims orange ornaments
Which was so magnificent.

It was not a nightmare
That sight did not stop there
As the dusk sky was aware
That it's too much to bear

Grey clouds shed their orange ornaments,
By pushing up the slow shy child
An half-cut orange circle emerged
Rose up as a whole circle and filled
The sight of the humongous sky up above.

Lift your chin
To awe and grin
As that rising picture is not sin
But a memory to pin.
Sasevardhni